From So Far Away
by I. B. Creeper
Summary: The oddest things can happen, purely by chance. Uchiha Itachi learns this when an assassin from halfway around the world shows up in Konoha and pulls him into a game of sex, violence, and intrigue. Partially AU /explanation inside/, Yaoi, Violence, etc.
1. Chapter 1: Mistake

A/N: Hello, all!! I finally have a new idea to work with, so I hope y'all like it. Be warned, this will contain many things people may find offensive: blood, death, psychopathic and/or illogical thoughts and internal conversations, sexual relations between two men, _violent_ sexual relations between two men, possibly _non-consensual _violent sexual relations between two (or more) men, character bashing, severe out-of-character-ness… oh, and did I forget to mention original characters? And hot, smexy, lewd, erotically redundant yaoiness? I think you get the point XD

This is what could have happened, what **should **have happened to Itachi. Instead of that whole mess with killing his family (I'll try to avoid spoiling it for those of you who haven't read that far, but they sort of deserved it), Itachi continued as ANBU. His family is alive and well, including Sasuke (who isn't quite the angsty Sasu-chan we all know, since he doesn't really have anything to angst over). Everything else is pretty much the same, although Kakashi's still in ANBU, at least as an investigator, so I can have him interact with Itachi *giggles* No, not in a sexual way! If you want that, you'll have to wait for me to work more on "Windows to the Soul".

I apologize for this first chapter's shortness-- I just wanted to get it done and out of the way so I could work on the next one! Which, by the way, will be much longer. I'll try to get it posted soon, but that part isn't a promise :P

Anyways, I own nothing in this story except for the plot and my beautifully unoriginal original character(s). Naruto is obviously not mine. Please don't sue me, Kishimoto-san, wherever your gloriousness is…!!

**Chapter 1: Mistake**

_He'd screwed up. Somehow, the target had heard him coming, had been prepared for a fight. He'd still finished the job, but not nearly as cleanly as he usually did. The mark had made too much noise before he'd silenced it, drawing attention to the scene so he'd been forced to run off without cleaning up after the kill. It wouldn't do to be caught over a corpse, covered in blood and carrying knives that were identical to the one buried hilt-deep in cooling flesh._

_It wasn't until he was back in the place he'd chosen as his base for this job, a small cave deep in the forest surrounding the odd little village of fighters he'd been hired to terrorize, that he realized he'd been cut by the target's knife. Only as the adrenaline wore off did the pain come to the surface, making him gasp softly as he carefully peeled the slashed, blood-soaked cloth away from the wound. It wasn't that deep, but the gash went from his collarbone to his left hipbone and bled a steady stream down his pant leg. Looking down at his foot, he cursed under his breath and sat abruptly, craning his neck to look back the way he'd come._

_There was a clear line of crimson footprints, leading out the entrance of the cave and into the forest, in the direction of the ninja village. He'd been so careful sneaking past the guards to get within the high walls, so cautious cornering his prey in an alley the moonlight didn't quite reach, but one mistake had most likely ruined everything. The trail he'd left was so obvious, a two year old could have followed it. If he didn't hurry, there would undoubtedly be men on his trail to do to him what he'd done to his target._

_He had to clean up and leave as quickly as possible. Rummaging through the meager supplies he'd brought with him, he pulled out bandages and stripped off the ruined, bloodstained rags of his shirt. Gritting his teeth and dizzy from the pain and blood loss, he proceeded to wrap the wound as tightly as he could. Tying the gauze off, he let out the breath he'd been holding and got shakily to his feet. Determined to end the trail here, he kicked off his shoes, rolled up the legs of his pants, and wiped off his feet the best he could._

_Pausing for a second, he debated leaving his bags there to throw off the trail, but he needed the medicines and food for the journey back to his home land. Reluctantly, he shouldered the heavy sacks and headed out into the trees._

_He didn't get far before exhaustion and blood loss overwhelmed self-control. Staggering a few more steps, he dropped his packs and slumped against a nearby tree, breathing heavily as the darkness spun around him. He fought off the weakness long enough to rip a chain from his neck and toss it—and the small charm that hung from it—away from him. There… now, even if they found him, they wouldn't be able to tell who he was, where he was from, and who had hired him to kill one of the most prominent members of Konoha's Research and Development Team. Finally, he couldn't fight it anymore. _

_He passed out._

* * *

Uchiha Itachi, prodigal son of the Uchiha Clan and one of the youngest Jounin to ever become ANBU, pulled off his mask and crouched down beside the cooling body of Izumi Masaharu. Such a waste of knowledge... A wave of anger slid through his mind as he surveyed the defensive wounds on the man's hands, one of which was still clutching a bloodied kunai. He left it alone for the moment, his attention caught instead by the knife handle sticking out of Izumi's neck. The raven-haired teen reached forward and took hold of the sticky metal, slowly drawing it from its fleshly prison.

"Well, would you look at that? Designs, in the blade...." A deep voice behind him made the teen turn his head, acknowledging Kakashi Hatake's approach. The silver haired, masked man came to a stop a few feet away, shoving his hands in his pockets and inclining his head towards the object in Itachi's hand. Itachi shifted his gaze to the blood-spattered metal, using the Sharingan to look even more closely. The blade had been engraved in lacy, complex patterns-- it was beautiful. A deadly piece of art, and nothing like Itachi had seen before.

His red eyes raised to look at Kakashi, a wry smile upturning the corner of his mouth. "This... is different. What's the significance?"

"I'm pretty sure that isn't just fanciful decoration. I've seen something like it-- not the exact design, but similar." The older man rummaged in a pocket for a but before pulling out a small, stiletto-like knife. He held it out to Itachi. The younger man looked, but didn't take it-- he had blood on his hands, after all. Sure enough, there was a slightly more geometric pattern worked into the metal. Not something done by the same hand, but it was the same idea. Itachi raised his eyes from the knife to the masked man's. "Where did you get that one?"

With a chuckle, Kakashi twirled the knife between his fingers before slipping it back into his pocket. "It was my father's. From a mission he did, way back when. He was sent out to gather information on the countries beyond those we generally deal with, and he bought that in one of them. I don't know any specifics, but I'm pretty sure it was nearly halfway around the world."

Itachi's eyebrow raised slightly at that, and he looked down at the blade he held. The blood was already congealing. "So, we're dealing with something unknown, huh?" Kakashi nodded, although the gesture was unseen since the younger man had already turned his attention to the object he held. Itachi turned it over in his hands, admiring the attention to detail. Something new... a challenge. Perfect. "That's interesting..."

Both ninja looked up as a third ANBU, still masked, appeared in the clearing. "We've found the assassin, and he's in bad shape. En route to Konoha Hospital-- we'll clean things up here. We need you two to be there when he wakes up, especially Itachi. Hokage-sama wants to see if you can get any information out of him while he's off-guard. Cleared to use any means necessary, short of violence. We don't want to risk him dying before we find out who sent him." A gloved finger tapped at the mask's eye, obliquely suggesting that they use their Sharingan.

Kakashi nodded, slipping his ANBU mask back on as Itachi quickly wiped the knife clean and slipped it into a pocket before doing the same. "Alright, we're going."

Their hands moved in almost-perfect unison, forming seals before the two abruptly vanished.


	2. Chapter 2: Recovery

A/N: Alrighty, everyone! Here's Chapter 2 of FSFA and, as promised, it's a wee bit longer than the first one. I figured I'd use this author's note to answer a few questions you might have about this story-- First off, I've finally decided on a name for my OC, as well as where he's from. Why he's there in Konoha (well, other than to kill off certain prominent members of society) is going to be made clear as the story progresses. Work with me, people! I'm making this up as I go, so I need you to cooperate and possibly overlook abnormalities in the plot. I'll probably go back and rewrite all this once I've got a more definite idea of where I want this story to go. I suck at planning *giggles*

Anyways, thanks to those of you who've read this, and even MORE thanks to those who've reviewed! I love reviews. They're like candy, although they usually aren't quite so sweet :D

On with the story! As per usual, Naruto and anything related to Naruto doesn't belong to nor associate with me in any way.

**Chapter 2: Recovery**

He'd been half-conscious for a while, listening to murmuring voices coming and going, speaking in a language with too many syllables that he couldn't even begin to understand. His chest throbbed and he felt faintly sick, a metallic taste in his mouth making his stomach churn. It hurt to breathe. A dull pounding in his head, plus those other symptoms, told him that he'd most likely been injured badly and lost a lot of blood. Too badly for it to be from a practice session with Alaric, the weapons-master. Images danced behind his eyelids of the events leading up to his current state-- the ceremony when he'd been chosen out of dozens for this special mission, the long trip stowed away on that merchant's ship across the sea, traveling over land, avoiding settlements and people, and finally coming to his destination. This strange country, with their massive network of assassins-- "ninja", as they called them. It was here that he was to find out information, hit a few marks, and get out before he was discovered.

Too bad plans don't go perfectly. He'd changed his mind on how he was going to proceed with the mission.

Something grabbed his arm and he jerked, pain shooting through his chest at the movement. With a weak moan, he opened his icy blue eyes, feeling sick as the room spun around him. Leaning over him was a woman with blonde hair and enormous breasts-- her hand was on his wrist, and a wave of soothing warmth spread from her touch. The pain from his chest wound eased a bit and he relaxed a little. He promptly stiffened up again as he saw the door open to reveal two men-- one with silver hair and one with black-- and realized what was going on: he'd been captured. They were apparently keeping him alive, most likely to interrogate him for information. Well, they weren't going to get _anything_.

Itachi eyed the prisoner, noticing that lean frame stiffening in defiance. The edge of his mouth slightly twitched as he suppressed a smile. The assassin looked like an angry kitten-- large, pale blue eyes glaring out from slightly sweaty locks of curly red hair. Pale, heart-shaped face twisted in pain and insolent anger as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. He couldn't be more than 17, maybe 18 at most. Itachi couldn't help but wonder why someone so young was so far away from home, killing people... His mouth twitched again. _Like I'm one to talk about starting young..._

"Has he said anything?" Kakashi finally spoke up as Tsunade let go of the kid's arm and sat back. The Hokage shook her head, crossing her arms and looking down at the prisoner.

"No. Didn't even cry out when we were treating him. Of course, that may be because he was passed out from blood loss. We've finally got him stabilized, although he'll probably be in and out of it for a while. I don't think he understands us." Tsunade sighed, reaching out to adjust the blanket. The prisoner flinched away from her touch, so close to his wound. She shook her head sternly at him and held his shoulder, wordlessly telling him to stay still. "You can question him lightly for now, but don't push him too much. Right now, he's our only source for information from so far away."

Kakashi nodded, but Itachi simply stared at the kid, analyzing his appearance down to the most minute detail. His facial features were different from anyone he'd ever seen... and curly hair? That was new, too. The redhead's left ear was pierced, a tiny sparkling white stone perched there on the lobe. Above the bandages, on the right side of that thin chest was a brand-- a crescent moon with three dots along the inside curve. His gaze went back to those pale eyes, which were watching him with a sort of dizzy anger.

Tsunade and Kakashi continued talking quietly as Itachi and the prisoner eyed each other, one with thinly veiled curiosity and one with growing irritation. Finally, the prisoner looked away, muttering something under his breath. The room went silent as three sets of eyes focussed in on the teen, who promptly blushed and pulled the blanket over his head. After a few moments, Tsunade laughed. "I think he's embarrassed at all the attention. Funny, for all that he's a killer and a potential enemy, he's kind of sweet."

She stood and left. Kakashi scratched his head and eyed the prodigy and the prisoner, then shrugged. "You're the closest to him in age. Maybe you can get him talking-- see if you can identify the language he speaks, or at least the type. Maybe we can track down someone who could understand him. For now, he's useless to us." Itachi nodded and the older man left, closing the door behind him.

The Uchiha sat on the stool vacated by Tsunade, scooting closer to the bed with a soft sigh. Those crystalline eyes peeked over the edge of the blanket at him, small hands gripping the hem as the teen slowly pushed the blanket down again. Itachi watched this with a raised eyebrow-- it seemed he wasn't the only one who was curious.

Deciding that the best way to go about this odd situation was to try to gain the prisoner's trust, Itachi leaned forward slightly and pointed at himself. "Uchiha Itachi. Itachi." He repeated, feeling slightly stupid as he tried to make his meaning clear. Slowly, the prisoner nodded. His eyes unfocused for a moment, obviously deep in thought. The brunet sat back, waiting. The assassin was probably trying to decide on a pseudonym to give, which was only to be expected.

Those pale eyes refocused on him, and the redhead sat up slightly even though the movement caused a wave of pain swept over his delicate features. One trembling hand lifted to point at himself, and those Cupid's bow lips parted. When he spoke, there was a sense of truth about the words that could only mean the kid was giving his true name.

"... Cearul." Itachi's eyebrows shot up. Such... odd pronunciation, especially for the vowels. And the kid-- no, Karu, Karul, _Cearul_-- had a beautiful voice. Surprisingly deep, for such a dainty exterior. Why was he out killing and almost being killed? Why wasn't he being pampered somewhere, as a singer or idol, or anything other than a killer? Shaking off the thoughts, Itachi reached out one hand in the universal handshake. Hesitantly, Cearul took the offered hand. Itachi smiled faintly, feeling the calluses of a fighter on that small palm.

"Nice to meet you."

Cearul nodded hesitantly, understanding the meaning, if not the words. He quickly withdrew his hand with a slight blush showing on his cheeks. Itachi actually chuckled at the teen's obvious distrust, sitting back in the chair. This... was going to be interesting.

* * *

_Cearul was laughing internally throughout the whole meeting. He'd successfully convinced them that he was a shy, awkward little thing. It didn't even matter that he'd given this Itachi person his real name-- there was no way they could connect him to anything with such a wide language barrier blocking the way._

_He was almost amazed at how well they accepted his act. They must be running around in circles, trying to figure out how someone so unobtrusive as little ol' Cearul had infiltrated their country and killed off an important member of their society. Well, there was a reason for his name... "fierce in battle", indeed! Berserker blood ran in his veins, and for all that he was petite, he was easily one of the most dangerous assassins from Eire. The society he belonged to, Morrigan's Blades, were slowly reaching out into every country of the world, leaving their beautifully crafted blades in the hearts of enemies and possible future enemies._

_These ninja had no idea what they'd brought into their "home"._


End file.
